


A Kiss from the End of the World

by cosmotronic



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/F, Female Hades - Freeform, Playing fast and loose with mythology, Romance, gender swap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-22 16:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11971014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmotronic/pseuds/cosmotronic
Summary: Persephone stands at the mouth of hell, a step away from the world she has left behind.Her mother grieves, and the land suffers.She gazes out across the suffering and she aches.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A take on the tale of Hades and Persephone, with a twist.
> 
> Other than the obvious gender switch I'm taking some liberties with the accepted mythology here. I wanted to write an actual love story between the two; less _trickery and kidnapping_ and more _star-crossed soulmates_ , you know?
> 
> Think of this little thing as inspired by rather than a strict retelling of a favourite story...

 

 

**prologue**

 

She stands at the mouth of hell and looks out across the lands she has left behind. The world above is barren now, bereft of life and cold. Trees stand like clawed hands, stark and harsh against a grey sky. Ice hardens the ground and a bitter wind whips about her feet.

She shivers, warmth of the hellfires quickly dissipated. Her thin shift and sandals are little comfort against the frost. She wraps her arms around herself and watches her breath puff into the air, the only sign of life. Her own slow heartbeat, the only sound.

It is so quiet.

She cannot hear her mother’s screams now. For a time there was a wild fury to be heard in the endless storms and gales, ripping across the lands, tearing up root and rock, searching. Rain falling, skies weeping, flooding and washing away the homes and lives of man and beast.

But everything is still, now. After the fury came the despair. Her mother grieves, and the land suffers.

She gazes out across the suffering and she aches.

She could leave this place, return to that world above and her mother’s embrace. And the sun would beam _so_ brightly, to lift the freeze and pour beautiful gold across the barren fields. And grass would grow and birds would sing and there would be rejoicing amongst the people, who would no longer need to shiver and starve.

She is so close. Just a step, to end all this.

“You could leave.”

The voice behind her is calm, and quiet, and seems to speak her own thoughts.

“No.”

She sighs it out and hears a smaller sigh in response. She senses the other come closer and does not startle at the hand on her hip, fingers and a palm a burning touch through the thin linen.

Long, strong arms wrap around her, over her own and she melts, sinks back into the warm embrace and together they look out across the desolation.

She feels the gesturing nod against her shoulder after a moment, the words low in her ear.

“Your mother?”

“Yes.”

Once again she sighs her answer and she bears the familiar sorrow in her chest.

Hot breaths move against her, hair brushing her ear as the other shifts to kiss her neck. She turns in their arms and draws back a little, to better see the face she knows so well. The other blinks sad, smokey eyes at her.

“Persephone-”

“No. I will not go back. I will not leave you.”

The other looks past her, at the ruined world beyond.

“Even if this is the price?”

“Yes. My mother… she must let me go. She will come to understand. This darkness will not last forever.”

“Persephone-”

“Hades. This is _my_ choice.”

“I know.”

“Unless… do you wish me to leave?”

There is a pause, and for an agonising minute she thinks her lover will crumble.

Hades is goddess of the Underworld. A black place of torment and despair; its ruler must be hard, and their passions often run dark. But Persephone has seen behind the mask, the face beneath the crown. She has felt the beat of a heart weighted with morality and has come to know the _woman_ , who loves both fierce and gentle.

And this frozen wasteland at her back is a cruel display to two tormented souls, not just her own. Persephone knows she can bear her own selfishness if she must, wear it as a shroud and weep over it. But she cannot ask another to join her in mourning. Especially one so dear to her.

She presses, has to know even as her own heart hangs in her throat.

“Hades? You have the power to banish me. Tell me you do not wish me here, with you.”

Hades stands tall and proud but is ultimately weak to one thing above all others. It is selfish, but there is no shame in truth.

“No. I… never could do such a thing. I want you here. I love you, Persephone.”

 

 

**α**

 

She remembers.

They meet above, in a sun-kissed field, for the first time on a bright and warm summer’s day.

All the days are summer’s days. And all of her mother's creation lovely and rich with colour and life, but this place is perhaps her favourite.

She dances barefoot through the long grass, running her fingers through the shifting sea of gold and green. Wide and open, unbroken blue above her and the twinkle of a distant cerulean ocean. Another way lies mountains glimpsed through the haze, Olympus their jewel. Sometimes there is a rumble about the imposing peak, as the gods rage or revel amongst themselves, but she pays little heed. Instead she listens to the sweet birdsong, or the hum of insects, or her own songs and laughter.

She picks wild flowers and places them in her hair, braids them together into white and yellow chains about her neck and smiles when she is done.

She is happy, and she is carefree.

She spins, her dress light about her legs. Feeling the tickle of the grass on her calves and the warm earth soft beneath her toes, sunlight bathing her face.

She closes her eyes. She is careless.

She doesn’t notice the other at first. She spins too fast and cannot stay her momentum. Her reaction too slow to alter the course of her step and they clash.

A hand snaps firm to her upper arm, saving her stumble. The fingers are tight and so hot on her skin and she gasps as she is pulled upright and close to a tall, slender stranger, a feminine form. She senses strength, a radiating warmth inches from her body.

She looks up into dark eyes and flawless, earthy skin, black hair falling in thick waves about bronzed shoulders. _Beautiful_ ; she cannot help the thought. And so near.

A smokey voice, low, a shade of amusement.

“Are you alright?”

Time hangs in the small space between them and she makes no move to pull away. Heat flows from their contact and she resists the urge to draw even closer to the source. Instead she stares at the face inches from hers, the other’s lips curving into a crooked smile.

Her mouth is suddenly too dry, her heart still pounding from her near fall, or perhaps something else.

She swallows. Whispers.

“Yes. Thank you.”

A nod and the grip lessens and the other steps back.

Their eyes remain locked, dancing with spark and humour and more, but as they draw apart she finds the cast of the woman’s gaze a little sad, too. A little lonely, and she wonders.

“Who are you?”

“I am Hades.”

“Of the Underworld?”

“Yes. Does that frighten you?”

She smiles.

“No.”

She should be afraid, but her answer is truth. A flicker of surprise crosses the other’s expression, her next words sounding caution.

“You should. Many men fear me.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. They cower, they fight and betray each other to avoid me. In the end, they cannot defeat me, cannot run nor hide.”

It’s not a boast or a threat, merely a statement of fact. The words are hard but there is a glint in the dark eyes, playful. A testing of her will, she suspects. Her smile grows gently wider in response.

“This is true. Nevertheless, I do not fear you. And I am no man.”

A huff of air, almost a laugh.

“This is also true.”

“I am Persephone.”

The other bows her head, ever so slightly.

“The tales do not serve you justice.”

Persephone flushes, her heart beats a louder rhythm.

She is used to compliments; her sweet beauty is the talk of many men and draws suitors from far and wide. But somehow this is different, this simple statement from this dark and mysterious beauty.

The moment stretches out, the sights and sounds about them paling, slowing. It would be easy to stay like this for hours, but she collects herself. Reminds herself that this is a stranger, and she should not be drawn in so easily.

“You are here to speak with my mother?”

“I was.”

“And now?”

“Now?”

“You are still here.”

“Yes… yes. I was returning to my home below, and I saw you dancing in this place. Happy, surrounded by flowers and sunlight. In the Underworld there is little such joy and I… lingered too long. I was watching you. I am sorry.”

There is an apology in Hades’ words and in her dropped smile, but no shame. This is a proud woman, Persephone knows, tired of sorrow and craving a taste of beauty.

“Do not be sorry. Happiness is to be shared, I think.”

Hades makes an odd little hum of agreement but appears distracted, mouth slightly parted and eyes slipped downwards.

They drift closer again. They share intoxicating air, a breath apart, and she feels light headed and seduced by expectation. She expects a kiss, not the soft and sad words.

“I must leave.”

Reality is like a cold splash of water, a sharp stone in her sandal. She understands; already Hades has left her domain untended and unguarded for too long.

“Of- of course. Perhaps you will return. To… linger some more?”

It is bold, too bold, but this woman intrigues her and flatters her and there is a jumping excitement in her breast that pushes a blush to her smiling cheeks and gives her courage.

Hades, hard and lonely guardian of the Underworld, furrows her brow and tilts her head. Then smiles back, a tiny bend that softens the lines of her face and forms the warm bond of a shared wish between them.

“Perhaps. Yes. Farewell, Persephone.”

Hades is gone, then, dust into the earth and an echo in Persephone’s heart.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

**β**

 

Every day for a week, she returns to the field of the long grass. Every day she dances and spins and picks wild flowers, and also she watches, and waits. Eyes scanning the horizon, hope holding her heart in her mouth.

Every time she twirls she half expects the warm clasp of fingers on her arm and the searching swirl of a dark gaze meeting her own. And every time the touch does not come her hope drops her heart back down again, to sit heavy in her chest.

She does not know why the disappointment cuts; their meeting was so brief and she knows the gods oft toy with mortals in such ways. She is young, and perhaps she is naive. Still, every day she sighs as the sun dips low and she hangs her head and lets the flowers scatter to the ground and goes home to her mother.

“Why are you saddened, my daughter?”

“Oh, it is nothing, mother.”

It is a lie.

On the eighth day, she returns to the field. As she draws near she sees a figure, a slim and tall silhouette against the bright morning sun. Hair sifted by the breeze, face turned away. Waiting. She shades her eyes and a wide grin breaks free across her face. She runs, slowing only as the figure turns to meet her.

Hades simply looks at her, smile a little less broad, while she catches her breath enough to speak.

“You returned. I… I did not think you would.”

“I am here.”

Her cheeks hurt from her smile. She is so happy, her heart so suddenly and exultantly buoyant that she fears it will burst from her chest to join the brilliant sun in the sky.

She reaches out to grasp the other woman’s hands in her own. Hades touch is warm, and as their fingers intertwine she wishes she could feel it in a more intimate caress. She has thought on this, dreamt of it many times since their encounter.

“I came every day. I hoped you would see me. I have missed you.”

Hades eyes flick away from hers, drop to the ground for a long minute. One thumb rubs gently against the back of her hand, over and over, hypnotic, seductive. Then the caress stops and Hades speaks.

“I have a confession. I tried to stay away.”

Her smile falters, turns down to echo the sinking of her heart. Of course. She _is_ young and naive, and she has wrapped her hopes in sentiment. Her reply is short, coldness seeping into the brief syllables.

“I see.”

She takes a single step back, expecting their loose hands to part. Instead Hades grip turns tighter and her head snaps up. There is a raw cut to the dark and beautiful features, a fierce torment in the eyes and an unexpected rasp of emotion to the words that follow.

“I tried to stay away, for _your_ sake, Persephone. I am no fit match for you. You are softness and sunshine and I… I am only to be feared. I can offer you nothing. But I could not push you from my thoughts. Your smile, your dance, your beauty… you lingered.”

She should be hurt, at least a little. She should be angry at having her choice dictated. Instead she feels the power of the words and she aches, and she _understands_.

“Hades. You are beautiful, a goddess without compare, and I think you have much to offer if you would only show me. And if I am afraid it is only that my heart might leap from my chest.”

“I am a tortured soul.”

“Then let me ease you. Does my happiness bring you comfort?”

“I… yes. Yes.”

“Then I also have a confession.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I have dreamed of you and I have imagined… doing _this_.”

She moves forward, lifts herself onto her toes and draws the other down quickly to meet her. A little awkwardly, hand on Hades neck, she presses their lips together.

It is a sweet kiss, and chaste, but Hades lips are _hot_ and it sets sparks to their kindling. She hums when they part, seeks a matching desire in the other's rapid blush and hooded eyes. She sees it, and it is strong, and _dark_.

Fingers tangle roughly in her golden hair, tilting her face to a better angle. She sees a wicked smile, teeth bared and tongue flicking outwards. Her eyes slide closed and then those burning lips are on hers once more.

This is the caress she has dreamed of and the kiss she has imagined.

They kiss until the sun is near its peak; a slow exploration, spurred by passion. They kiss until she hears the words that must come, a throaty whisper of regret.

“I must leave.”

“I know.”

“I _will_ return, Persephone, I promise. As often as I can. Every day I will try.”

Then Hades is gone, again, but Persephone’s heart is lifted. She is thrilled, and she is seduced.

 

 

**γ**

 

Every day for a week, they meet in the field.

She always wakes early, on dawn’s cusp. The sun is already risen by the time Hades joins her but still, she likes to wait.

She likes to close her eyes and wait for the subtle shift in the grass. She likes to calm her breaths, slow the anticipation of her heart, until she hears the rustle and the whisper and feels the tiny tremor beneath her bare feet.

She likes to open her eyes, then, catching the swirl of dust in the morning haze. It looks far away, a trick of the light, but when Hades steps forward it is clear as through water.

Hades is here, and beautiful. And she is here, and happy.

She dances and it is an even more joyous expression than before, twirling into Hades’ arms and laughing.

And sometimes they tilt into the embrace and kiss, or they sink to the ground and lean upon each other and talk. She tells tales of the world about them, small tales of the birds and the fields and how the clouds circle the mountains, sometimes, and how the sea sparkles at midday.

She is carefree.

Hades grips her hands tight when they dance, and wears the necklace of flowers that Persephone gifts her, and Persephone tries not to notice how the blooms wilt against the scorching bronze skin. And Hades tells tales with weight, clever tales of deep meaning and wit, but only when they are pulled from her like threads teased loose.

Hades is not so carefree; a tortured soul indeed. But here the fierce goddess is calmed and soft and gentle, and looks upon Persephone like she is the entirety of the world.

For a little while. The keeper of the Underworld has responsibilities; a burden and an unwelcome shackle that pulls them apart again far too soon.

They embrace before they part, and Persephone holds her love a little tighter, a little longer, every day.

On the eighth day, she brings desperate thoughts to her lips.

“Why must our time always be so fleeting? I wish we could spend just one whole day together. To hold your hand and see the sun wake together, to spend long hours enjoying life and laughter and sweet touches. I wish to watch the sunset, wrapped in your arms, until it fades and we can count the stars.”

It is a false hope, a wish that cannot be brought or bought. She feels the sigh against her shoulder.

“I wish it too, Persephone. But it… it is not possible.”

“I know. Still, I cannot bear to see you leave.”

They draw back and Hades brings up a gentle hand to wipe away tears she did not know she was weeping. She feels her face crack further and it is mirrored in the crumbling expression of the other.

Their lips meet, their usual goodbye kiss a promise for tomorrow. But this time there is a deeper, hurting sorrow spurred by their words, giving power to empty hope, giving their kiss urgency.

Hades grips her arms tightly, fingers branding over the outline of their first meeting. Persephone shivers.

That scorching touch slips down, to brush across her hip and come to rest on the curves of her flesh. Something stirs in her, uncoiling low in her gut; something dark, something different, and she arches into the embrace, moans into the pressing mouth.

Hades pulls her even closer, until their bodies are pressed tight. Hip to hip, breast to breast, both a warm comfort and a fiery passion. Mouth to mouth they devour, as though it is the last time and this is all that they will ever have of each other.

A thigh moves between her legs, pressing up to leave them both gasping, sweet air and desire.

She whispers her next words firmly into the other woman's ear, arousal giving her courage.

“Take me with you.”

Hades startles, steps back abruptly. Shakes her head, swallows once to find her voice.

“No.”

Her mind is muddled with desire of the flesh but she knows what she desires in her heart, in her _soul_. She will beg, if she must.

“Please, my love. I wish to be with you always.”

“You cannot. We… cannot. Not like that.”

“ _Please_.”

Hades face is stricken, agonised in its expression.

“The _Underworld_ is my domain, Persephone. Do you not understand? It is hard and it is cruel. Dead men abide there, wicked men. Such torments as you cannot conceive. I must endure and I alone must bear witness. I would not see your radiance dimmed by such a place.”

“I only wish for a life of love and comfort and whatever joy we can create. Together.”

“I know. And I will take this little time we have and make it as rich as a lifetime. For these few hours I am yours and yours alone. Please, Persephone. Do not ask more of me.”

She knows it is truth.

“I… I will take whatever I can of you.”

Hades nods, relieved.

“Until tomorrow, my love.”

And once again, Hades is gone. And Persephone weeps, hard and shaking, until her sobs soften and her tears are spent in the dust.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

**δ**

 

She goes home.

She knows her mother must never know of her meetings with Hades. She knows her mother would not allow any suitor to come so close, let alone one so dark and dangerous and inappropriate and _exciting_. She does not fear the goddess who gave her life, but her disapproval would break Persephone’s mortal heart.

So she dries her tears and runs fingers through her mussed hair, straightens her dress. She embraces her mother, kisses her cheek as she always does, and paints serenity across her face and pleasantness on her lips.

But still she is so sad, and a mother’s instinct can see past such transparent masks. Her mother strokes her hair, cups her cheek.

“Persephone? You have been distant from me of late. Will you not tell your mother what is wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

It is another lie. She wonders whether the untruth is for her mother, or for herself.

“Persephone?”

“I am… tired. That is all.”

“Of course. You have been spending much time in the fields.”

The tone is not accusing, merely curious. But still she stiffens, cannot help the tension pulling on the ropes of her body. Her pulse races from a slow start and her chest tightens in panic, as though she is caught.

Her mother senses the change, presses.

“Did- has something happened there? Oh, my sweet daughter. You must tell me who has upset you. The farmers, they come too near in search of pasture, or… soldiers returning from distant battle? They can be crude, and-”

Her mother grasps her hand suddenly, raising it and pulling to see the fading yellow bruise of five fingers on her upper arm.

“What warrior has laid hands on you? Tell me his name and I shall-”

She shakes her head, pulls her arm away.

“No, mother! Please, do not worry yourself. No-one has hurt me.”

The ache in her chest speaks otherwise.

Her mother’s anger is mounting and turned outwards, to these imagined defilers.

“I wish only for your wellbeing! This world is not _safe_ … I should not have let you wander unprotected. Your beauty is a precious gift, but also a curse that turns men into savage beasts of lust. Stay here, my child, and I will protect you.”

Persephone wilts, energy sapped suddenly as her heart and mind make a connection, a painful conclusion. Hades and herself, they can never be together, not truly. Not while her mother keeps her with such fierce devotion and holds her close. She would never be permitted to pass into the love and protection of another.

And even were it not so, Hades is bound to the Underworld for eternity. An hour above, an hour a day in each other's arms is no life. They have been seduced too easily by a brief taste of pleasure. Maybe she is just addictive ambrosia for the other, a daily dose of light to ease a dark and lonely existence.

She wonders what hope there can be for such a love, secret and set against such barriers. Perhaps it is best to end it now, to let her mother's assumptions and fears be the tools.

Tears spring in her eyes at the thought, grief knots her tongue. She does not wish it so.

But perhaps her mother will understand. How her heart leaps and sings when Hades and herself are together, sinks low when they are apart. Together they are as the sun’s kiss on a flower, blooming only in the brightness. She will take their hours together as such a beautiful gift of life, brief as it must be.

Her mother is architect of beauty. Yes. Her mother _must_ understand.

“I have… I have met someone. We are in love, mother.”

Her mother flinches, falls a step back as though struck.

“No!”

“Yes. You see, there is no need for despair! Oh mother, if only I could show you the joy that fills my heart when we are together. I am uplifted.”

“Are you not happy with the home that I have provided? With all that I have created in earth and sky?”

“Of course I am happy. But I have seen that there is _more_.”

“That is the evil of seduction, my daughter. It will whisper songs of desire in your head and twist poems of pleasure into your blood and leave you weak and _wanting_.”

“Not everything is to be feared.”

“You are young. You cannot see the danger. Persephone, I forbid you to see this man.”

The tears fall freely from her. She realises then, her mother knows nothing of this form of love. And worse, would deny her even a taste of it, to spare her bitter poison. Would block her sun, let her not have the barest glimpse, to keep her from the shadow of the axe.

It is no life. She loves her mother but in their home she is a prisoner; her cage fashioned from words and guilt as strong as bronze and stone. She has let herself be bound as surely as Hades.

No, she will fight for their love and her life. They will find a way. She is not afraid.

She scoffs.

“Hades is no _man_ , mother. I may be weak and I may be wanting, but we are each the same and it is beautiful. And we _will_ be together.”

She is shaking with adrenaline when she leaves. It is nearly dark outside, the sun dropping rapidly below the distant horizon. Clouds gather, the blood red colour of her mother’s anger.

A wail sounds about her. Distraught winds whip at her, urging her to return and promising forgiveness. She does not return, she does not look back.

 

 

**ε**

 

She does not know where lies the entrance to the Underworld. She marches on in the first direction she chooses, head high and proud and jaw set. There is no starlight to guide her, roiling clouds blocking the twinkling beacons and instead of silver moonlight she sees only a dull grey glow.

She walks, for hours and _miles_. Her resolve does not lessen, but her feet begin to ache and the cold winds cut through her thin dress to her bones.

Her head droops and she stares at the rough ground beneath her, focuses on placing one foot in front of the other with arms wrapped about herself to ward off the chill. She slows to a trudge, little by little. Her will does not falter, but she is tired and she stumbles when her foot meets an exposed root.

She is saved. A tight grasp about her arm, five burning presses in an accidental echo.

She does not look up, does not need to see the dark eyes and earthy skin and waves of black hair to know.

“Hades…”

Her voice is broken. She sobs the name, sinks to the ground and the other sinks with her and pulls her close. Her eyes cast down, she welcomes the embrace. She does not need to see the question on the other’s face. She does not wish to bear the wrath of another goddess, to see the _disappointment_ of her love.

Hades strokes her back and combs fingers through her hair as she pours out her grief into a stoic shoulder.

“Sshh, my love. I am here.”

“I came to find you. To… to join you. Hades, I do not care if I must dwell below for all eternity. I need you.”

“Persephone-”

“I am weak without you. Tell me you feel it too. Oh Hades, we did not intend it but we are fragile parts of a whole, now.”

“I do feel it. It is how I found you here tonight. Your spirit called to me. As it drew me to you that first day we met.”

“Then _take me with you_. I offer myself to you, now and always.”

She curls, rests her head on her love’s chest to hear the steady rhythm of life. Breathes in the familiar scent of ash and earth, hears the low voice rich with smoke and sorrow.

“And what of your life here? These beautiful lands, the fields of grass where we danced? The birds that sing so sweetly, the distant ocean that sparkles like diamonds? There are no such sanctuaries of peace below.”

“As long as I am with you I shall not want. You are my peace, and I am yours. We both know this.”

Hot lips press on her ear.

“There is more.”

She lifts her head, stares. Hades is not wrathful, or disappointed, or even resigned. Her countenance is fierce, determined. Fathomless eyes search her own, seeking proof of her matching determination. That she has made her choice.

“I… I cannot return home. Our time together would be at an end. My mother's anger would keep me from you.”

“So you sought my domain. Alone, willingly. You are braver than any man that draws breath, Persephone.”

She does not feel brave.

“Are- are we near?”

Hades shakes her head.

“The Underworld cannot be reached by any mortal path.”

She drops her face again, becoming small before her goddess. Her voice is a whisper, a suspicion pricking fear in her chest.

“Must I die?”

Strong and warm arms wrap tighter about her, gathering her body and soul until they are one in a space. She feels a hollowness in her stomach, a sense of emptiness forming about them. Something looming, something _impending_ , like the moment between falling and being caught that can last a lifetime.

The ground opens. Hades is all about her, her voice a tether.

“No. Just… take a breath.”

It is not painful, but it is quick and like nothing she has known. She does not fall, she is _pulled_ , hard and fast with blackness all around and a cacophony in her ears and obstacles tearing, clawing at her skin. She gasps at the sensations, her mortal form forced to breathe but she cannot; she is stifled, suffocating under the press of earth, brought to the brink of panic. She tries to scream, fears the loss of her tether, that she will be trapped _between_ with root and worm and bone forever.

Then, as suddenly as their journey began it is at an end and she is shivering on a cool, hard surface with a warm body half atop hers. She blinks and stares, upwards and past her love’s concerned face.

Stars. There are stars above her and they are beautiful. She feels unreal, _apart_.

Lips find hers, passing air and comfort into her shaking form. She coughs, and returns to her body as Hades draws back.

“Persephone. There. It is over.”

“Th-there are stars… beneath the earth?”

She rises to her feet, a warm hand in hers and their fingers entwined. She clenches tightly about the fist, eyes widening as she takes in their surroundings.

She is home.

“Hades! Why have you brought us here? We must leave!”

Hades seems even taller, the profile of her face set firm. Proud lip, a determined jut to her chin.

“No. We must do rightly by the gods. I will ask your mother for your hand. For her blessing.”

“She will not grant it.”

“Nevertheless. I must try.”

Hades marches forward then and Persephone follows, reluctant.

Her mother is sat spent amongst wreckage and ruin, their home bearing the marks of her anger. Walls torn and scarred, gnarled roots bursting through the broken floor, furniture and pottery lying smashed.

They wait, hand in hand.

Her mother’s head slides up slowly, face twisted and ugly with grief. Narrowed eyes move over and across her and Hades both, taking in her weary and dishevelled appearance, their clasped hands, locking to her companion’s perfect features.

“So it is true.”

“Demeter.”

“You would seduce my daughter, steal her from me with your base wickedness?”

“Mother!”

Her mother’s wild eyes snap to her, then.

“Silence!"

There is a squeeze about her fingers and she turns to Hades, who softens for her for only a moment before returning to face her mother's wrath.

Persephone stills, withdraws the pleas and arguments from the tip of her tongue. Can only watch as the two who love her most, two goddesses of the earth, test their wills against one another.

Hades stands firm, and she is proud.

“That is not a fair judgement, Demeter. My love for your daughter is true. And she loves me equally true.”

Persephone draws closer to Hades, the vision of a united front. Her mother notices and shifts her focus, anger white hot and cruel.

“My daughter!"

“Persephone is no child. She is free to follow her heart.”

“Follow _you_.”

“To stand by my side.”

“In your Underworld. With dead things.”

“I am guardian of the Underworld. It is a responsibility I do not take lightly. I swear, Demeter, I will allow no harm to befall your daughter while she dwells in my domain.”

“You forget yourself! I am goddess of all the bountiful earth, everything that grows and prospers is my domain. I bring _life_. You are lord of nothing but decay and corruption. Tell me, Hades. Why did your brother task _you_ with such an abominable duty?”

“We each play our role, Demeter. Above and below, earth and sky and sea.”

“You are not fit for sky nor sea, nor anything that dwells above.”

Hades sighs and Persephone’s heart breaks. There can truly be no resolution here.

“I have nothing to offer, except all that I am. Please.”

The look on her mother’s face is one of victory, and satisfaction.

“My daughter will remain here, with me. And you shall return to your hellish domain alone, Hades. I shall suffer your presence in my home no more.”

Persephone can hold her tongue not a moment longer.

“I will _not_ stay! Hades and I are in love, and she is strong and good. She will never harm me, I know this my heart. You do her dishonour with your cruel words.”

“It is Hades who has dishonoured _us_ , my daughter. She has no place here amongst my bounty, amongst your beauty. Surely you can see this?”

“No, mother. For the first time I see clearly. All my life you have kept and provided for me, given me love and protection and I am _grateful_ , but if you wish me to be truly happy you must let me go. I wish to be free, to make my own choices. Come, Hades, my love.”

“Persephone.”

Hades is quiet, speaks her name with sadness and she turns, despairing, to meet her dark eyes.

“Hades, let us leave. Now.”

“I cannot take you from here against your mother's wishes. I am… not strong enough.”

Of course. Here, in their home that is the cradle of growth and new life, her mother's power over the earth is absolute. Hades knew this, and still brought them here to be torn apart under the forces of Hades’ own honour and her mother's stubborn fury.

“Hades…”

Hades raises glinting eyes once more to her mother, face hardened before the storm.

“I shall leave, as you ask. But know this, Demeter. My love for Persephone will not wane because you wish it. And you cannot be the keeper of your daughter’s heart.”

Tall and proud, never slumped even in defeat, Hades starts to turn away.

“Wait!”

Persephone surges forward, presses her lips and body to that of her love. It is partly a show of defiance, partly a last gasping plea, but it also marks the final shattering of her heart and of her hope.

“Hades… no… _no_ …”

She mumbles her sobs into her kisses, grips the other tight as though she could bind them together.

Hades returns her affection with urgency, then shifts her head slightly to push hot air and low words into her ear, a message only for her, a message she scarcely believes.

“Be ready, my love. There is another way.”

Then Hades is gone, one final time, and Persephone wails into the night and rails against her mother but it is to little effect. Her love is gone, perhaps forever, and she is powerless.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [tumblr](https://cosmotronic87.tumblr.com/), if anyone wants to hit me up or ask me anything :)


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